rulerofthewoodlandrealm:
Over a week had passed since Thranduil and a rather large company of elves had set out to travel to Ithilien to see the prince of the woodland realm and the new prince of Ithilien, who Legolas was residing with.
The world was changing around them, in a way it had not before. Peaceful and without the heavy feeling a dark presence had put over their lands for far too long. Freed of the ancient evil that had haunted the Elvenking for thousands of years, a feeling of constant gloom had been lifted from him.
Yet, finding himself still frightened by the old ruin of Dol Guldur, Thranduil had not passed too closely by it on his journey. He knew that the evil that had lurked there and had corrupted his forest from within was gone as well, but the place itself would forever be tainted in his mind and memory, by the things that had happened to him.
Things that he had to remember, because no matter how bright the world had started to look, they would always matter and the dark patches on his heart and soul weren’t ones that could be erased, even by the brightest light.
The taint of ancient dark magic was fading away and Mirkwood was, once again, free and prospering under the changed circumstances, even in the south, where the ruin was close. Something that the Elvenking had not thought would happen, even as he had fought his battle inside the woods, while other battles had been fought elsewhere.
From far, Emyn Arnen wasn’t as easy to see as other settlements were, but the eyes of the elves had no problem spotting it in the distance as they approached the wide fields that lay before it.
Surely, his son had long noticed them and the thought of being reunited with him filled the Elvenking with joyous anticipation. Tireless, they wandered the fields before the hills of Arnen, spears glistening in the sun by day and reflecting the starlight by night.
Feeling light like he had not in a very long time, his company soon picked up on his good mood and joined in on it, feeling encouraged by their king’s attitude.
The gate of Emyn Arnen was large. Not as large as the gates of the woodland realm, but huge enough that they could pass through easily, as the men and women of Ithilien opened their door to the elves. They had been shouting and yelling their arrival, the wind carrying their voices to the ears of the elven company.
There had not been a single elf, who had joined in to surprised shouts, which told of two things. His son and his group of elves had all known they would come and they had not told a single mortal soul about it.
A thought that put a faint smile on the father’s lips.
Seeing his son then, almost immediately after the Elvenking had passed through the gate, his elk watchful but unafraid of the strangers, made the smile grow wider. A small greeting, offered with the utmost affection and telling of fatherly fondness to anyone able and willing to understand the ways of the elves, was all he could offer his son for now. It would have been unnecessarily rude not to greet the lord and lady of Ithilien first.
Having his elk walk at a trot, he stopped only before what he believed to be just those. The land was beautiful, prospering under the reign of men, but the city was almost luminous in its magnificence. So much so, that it was hard to believe men had built it.
"I have come as a visitor to this place, if you would be so kind as to extend the same hospitality you are offering my son towards me and my company." Showing no intention to leave his mount, he waited for an answer. Indeed, he did not plan to make any move that would have suggestion him getting too comfortable in the city of men, before he was officially invited to stay.
Not that he doubted it would happen.
Éowyn had always been aware that the prince was in fact- a prince, but she had never considered that his father was a king. It was silly in retrospect, but Legolas had become such a good friend of hers, she had forgotten that in his own realm he must be possessing even more authority than here amongst the elves of Ithilien and even the mortal residents. King Elessar was so fond of prince Legolas that no one would dare oppose him, aware the king's wrath would soon follow.
Éowyn bowed the golden head, long tresses pooling over her shoulders and granting her a brief resprite. Her emeralds went wide and she admired the whole picture of pure grace and majesty. Every soldier was entirely impeccable just like the elvenking himself. The lady had heard of him of course, who has not? The one who ruled in the forest of Mirkwood, a tale full of mystery and quite many speculations. Even though she and Legolas got along perfectly well, she had never dared asking him anything private or anything regarding his people. She observed his fellow elves at times, watched how they moved about with little effort and even defy most of the weather, where her mortal kin moved inside to evade catching a cold or worse.
Faramir remained in silence and she raised her head, exchanging one last glance with her husband before smiling at the king and bowing her head. Of course this was nothing but a polite farce, Thranduil was always welcome here, and even if he were not, they would have already made that clear before the delegation would have reached the borders. "Of course, welcome to Ithilien my lord." It occured to her that Faramir was probably a little overwhelmed, for he took a great liking to the elves and their culture. At times he was even mildly sheepish around Legolas but always with a mind like sharp glass and surely he will find a moment of courage to address the elvenking himself.
"Please, this way to the stables. " She walked ahead, dressed both noble and practical. It was a custom of the rohirric women, noble or not, they always had to move about and sit upon their horses and their wear reflected it. Éowyn in particular, even though now she spent a lot of time in the healing house as chief healer, rode Windfola over the planes whenever the wind called for her. Her dresses were never narrowed down at the hem, her heels never high.
She watched how Legolas followed and he petted the elk's soft snout who gave a happy grunt in return. It was a deep familiarity and quite pleasing to watch how son and father smiled at each other. Sadly she had not yet managed to make the prince smile at her the same way. Perhaps a human was not capable of that.
titsay
gummygunk
janainaart
theartofmadeline
